Always dear to me was this solitary hill, and this hedge, which from a large part of the farthest horizon excludes the sight. But sitting and gazing, I frame within my thought endless spaces beyond that [hedge], and beyond- human silences, and the deepest quiet, so that my heart almost takes fright. And when I hear the wind rustling through these plants, I compare that infinite silence to this voice: and there come to mind eternity, and the dead seasons, and the present and living one, and the sound of it. Thus in this immensity my thinking drowns: and it is sweet to be shipwrecked in this sea
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